


Catch You When You Fall

by mizufallsfromkumo



Series: Gravity [2]
Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Bruce Wayne is a Good Dad, Coma, Crime Fighting, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Gen, Hurt, Hurt Dick Grayson, Major Character Injury, Mild Blood, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Secrets, Strangulation, vague mentions of the team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-10 08:49:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13498624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizufallsfromkumo/pseuds/mizufallsfromkumo
Summary: Dick braced himself against the metal of the tube once the light fades.Fighting against the pain the was coursing through his body, pleading with him to just stop. Fighting to stay conscious and control for just a little bit longer.  Fighting against the fact that his knees feel like they were just going to give out underneath him without warning.  Fighting to get breath in his burning lungs as he also resisted the urge to throw up on the spot.Yeah, maybe taking the Zeta beam in his current state was not the best idea.





	Catch You When You Fall

**Author's Note:**

> I am back with the second installment of this series. 
> 
> I am really happy with how this turned out. I don't think it's as good as the first one, but that is mostly because there isn't much to tell aside from the beginning and the end.
> 
> I am also happy with like how well received this series has become with one fic in it. Like, really blown away guys. Not to mention I like that fact that as I finish one story, I have an idea for another one.

Dick grunted in pain as a throwing knife was slammed into his shoulder.

In one quick move, he swatted the Shadow’s hand away from from his hilt of it.  The sickening crack of their wrist bones hardly phasing him as he moved to duck and weaving under a wild swing from their left. Twisting and moving behind them, as he ignore the pain in his shoulder.

Swiftly he kicked the back of their calf as he straightened up, quick and weighted.  This time the crack of bone lost under the cry of pain they admitted.  

Dick followed through with a sharp shove to their back with his left hand.  Sending them flying into the wall with the force of it, causing them to instantly fall limply to the ground.  He hissed sharly in pain as his left shoulder burned with new pain from the knife from the move.

His quickly glanced down at the wound.  The throwing knife was buried deep in his left shoulder, it would need attention.   _ Real _ attention he couldn’t afford to get, in more ways than one at the moment.  

Dick cursed as he reached for the knife and yanked it out.  

Something, if circumstances were different, might of smartly not done.   It would help him avoid blood loss.  But right now he had no choice, the throwing knife was the only weapon he had on hand at the moment.  His skills could only get him so far against assassins with an array of weapons.

He gasped at the dull pain and flow of new warmth from his shoulder, briefly.

He needed to think about what his next move was.  He hadn’t come in with much of a plan to begin with.

Somehow, they had baited Dick in to the building.  

He saw a Shadow slip into the warehouse, and he couldn’t exactly remember why he followed them in.  

No…scratch that, he sort of knew why.  The warehouse the shadow had slipped into was an old one with Lex Corp faded on the side.  Long since abandoned and forgotten.  Dick followed dumbly after them in hopes of finding  _ something _ helpful.  Or just see what the hell a Shadow was doing in an abandoned warehouse.  Or maybe get the drop on his hunters for once in last few miserable months of running.  Give them a surprise before they could find him.  

But they expected him.

And Dick walked right into their trap.  

Like an idiot.

He did not want to think about what Batman would have to say about all of this.  He didn’t have time.  Nor had he not mentally yelled at himself ten times over, as he took on Shadows.

In his defense, he isn’t in his right mind.  He tired, hungry, and so freaking sore.  

It had been a week since he was in Metropolis with Clark and Conner.  So close to safety, and he had just thrown it away.  All because Slade showed up at a coffee stand at the same intersection as Dick.  He ran away and had been paying for the last week. 

Dick shook he head, sharply, ignoring the way he slayed just slightly.

He didn’t have time to think about all of that.  He needed to get of that warehouse, and get out of it fast.  With something more than a plan just finding a way out and away, or handling every Shadow that attacked him in the process.  Because that plan was not working.

He had already manage to take down four Shadows.  And he already had two deep wounds that  _ would _ lead to his capture if he didn’t get out of there soon.

Suddenly Dick feels himself get tackled harshly.

A heavy weight of someone bigger and stronger slamming into him.  Knocking the breath of out Dick’s lung’s sharply at the impact, and yanking his hood down over his eyes.  The tingling in the back of his skull ignited sharply, as they fell to the ground.

Dick fought against their hold.  Scrambling to get away in a mess of wild kicks, and elbows.  But his attacher is quicker, and seemed to attribute his moves, as they refused to release their hold on him.  And the knife in Dick’s hand harmless hits body armor.

He managed to push against an old piece of machinery with his foot.  Sending them both his attacker and himself sliding against the floor instantly.  They stopped roughly as his attackers back hit a pole.

His attacker grunted at the impact, and Dick’s blood ran cold.

Their hold on Dick loosened instantly.  Allowing the acrobat to scramble away, despite every instinct he had to whip around and attack.  But Dick opted for putting distance between them.  As well as getting his feet underneath himself again. 

He knew he didn’t have the strength or the energy to take on Slade Wilson.

Dick hurriedly stood up, shoving the hood off his head as he turned to look back.  Hoping that perhaps the universe would be on his side enough for Slade to at least be dazed for a moment.  

He was not.

The older man was already on his feet and charging him.  Dick barely had enough to think of how to react, before Slade in his full outfit was on him.

Dick managed to keep with a few round of blows.  Blocked a few kicks and punches, dodged a knife or two.  Even get a few punches, elbows, and kicks of his own in.  Some that managed to send Slade stumbling back from time to time, only to come back.

But it was only a few fleeting moments of success.

Slade effortless disarmed Dick of his throwing knife.  Bending his wrist backwards till Dick released it and it clattered against the ground.  

The older man hummed contently, before grabbing Dick’s left shoulder and squeezed harshly.  Sending a new wave of pain and warmth flowed found from the wound, as Dick swallowed down a shout.  A knee collided with Dick’s ribs, his still  _ broken _ ribs, causing a heavy grunt to leave Dick with his breath.

Dick collapsed to the floor with a whisper of a groan.

Slade effortless pinning him to the ground, before Dick can even think to move from the pain.  Using his knee to keep Dick pinned down, shoving all of his weight into Dick’s sore and battered torso.  Resting a hand heavily against Dick’s left shoulder, as he leaned in.

“Your fight is commendable,”  Slade sneered as pulled out a knife from somewhere on his person.  Dick was too blinded by pain to really noticed.  He just knew it was suddenly against his throat.  “But I am afraid it’s over.  Time to come home.”

“Best two out of three?”  Dick grunted out harshly.

Slade hummed darkly at the idea.  His one eyes flickering up and down Dick’s form below from behind his mask.  Dick just knew the other enough he was smiling down at him at the suggested.  He pulled the knife away from the young teens throat.

The acrobat watched it carefully as the older twirled in the air slightly.  Watching it catch a few bits of light in the darkened warehouse.  Slade stopped suddenly, the hunters knife held firmly in his hand, the blade flush against his arm.  He pulled away with something a dark chuckle.

Dick saw an opening for an attack.  The tingling in his fingers burns as he decided to take it while he had the chance.

Slade’s hunter knife buried itself in the side of Dick’s right thigh, and there was blinding pressure on Dick’s shoulder.  Causing the teen to cry out in pain.

“Your stubbornness and reselance have last their charms, kid.”  Slade growled out swiftly, as he twisted the knife just so before taking his hand away from that handle..   “But, please, persist.”  He continued, as he moved to wrap his arms around Dick’s throat.  “I quite enjoy it.”

Dick gasped breath, as Slade carefully applied pressure to his throat.  

Growing slightly with each passing second.  Cutting off the amount of air Dick could take in agonginsly slow.  Slade was like that.  He liked to draw things out when he could.  When they frustrated him to the point, Dick never failed to do. 

Dick’s hands flew to Slade’s wrists.  

Struggling against them, in hopes of freeing them from his throat.  Pushing, pulling, and clawing for any sort of give.

But with every attempt, Slade tightened his hold.

The back of Dick’s skull was burning.  Instincts and panic firing it off wildly.  

Offering Dick a way out if he just gives in.  A way out Dick knows will work against the older man.  Because the older man wants to Dick to go down by his own hands.  He doesn’t want to “cheat” by not allowing Dick to be at his full potential.

Not that Dick was at his full potential now.  All battered and weak as he was, but that was fair game to Slade.  

Dick half considers giving in to the burning and the tingling, which was now spreading through his whole body.  Without a doubt it would get Slade off him, and get Dick away from there.  But there was a chance it would kill him to.

Dick can’t afford to wake up in some cornfield in the middle of nowhere.  Not when he’s bleeding from three deep open wounds.  He’ll die before he ever came back to his senses.  His body was too tired and malnourished to begin with.  And if somehow he ended up where someone could find him, Slade would find him faster than Bruce.

He doesn’t have a lot of options.

Spots start to appear in Dick’s vision as his lungs burn with screams for air.  Slade had a bruising pressure on his neck.  

If Dick didn’t do something fast, the last three months would have meant nothing.

Dick squirmed in Slade’s hold, fighting against him in a last ditch effort.  Suddenly he focuses his vision on the ceiling above Slade in effort to distract him.  Dick smirked slightly as he felt the tinglings leaking it’s effects, at beyond noticeable levels as Dick gives into it just enough.

Enough to have it take over a considerable amount, but not consume him out of control.  It was very delicate balance Dick’s only managed a few times before.

It didn’t take Slade too long to notice and misread the trap.

But it’s more than enough of a distraction for Dick to get his legs under Slade, and his feet against his stomach.  With one quick push of his legs, Dick kicked Slade off him.  Kick him towards the other side of the warehouse with ease.

Dick gasped loudly, as the pressure as off his throat.  Coughing and sputtering against the new flow of oxygen, as he pushed himself to sit up.  He leaned over to the side an attempt to catch his breath for a moment.

Nothing to long, he still needed to get out of there, before Slade could reach him again.

At the though, Dick scrambled to get up.  Hissing at the pull of the knife in his leg as he moved.  But once his was on his feet, he yanked the knife of of his leg.  He was going to run, the knife would be in the way of making that happen.

A dark laugh, caught Dick’s attention.

He looked up to see Slade, slowly sitting up from where he hand landed from Dick’s kick.  Effectively yards away from Dick on the other side of the old warehouse.  Dick was sure if he was laughing at the fact that Dick managed to trick him, or at the fight Dick still had him.  Dick really did not want to stay and find out.

But for some reason, he found himself standing there watching Slade.  Watching as he coolly sat up and rested his one of his arms against his knees.

“Clever, kid.”  Slade seemed to sighed out as he kept Dick’s gace.  “Looks like you really did listen in class.”  He continued cooly as he held up his other hand.  There was something in, but it was to far away for Dick to make out what it was.  He could just make out Slade moved this thumb.  “But you still have a lot to learn for teacher.”

A sharp beeping suddenly started to Dick’s left, causing him to turn sharply at the sound.

He turned to see a small set of charges on along a two poles near him.  All too small and far away to actually severely hurt or kill him.  But more than enough to be a threat.

Yet before Dick can move, they all exploded.  

Dick shielded himself from the blast.  Feeling the heat just barely lick at his limbs.  But the shockwaves sent him flying into and through the outside wall of the warehouse.  He braced himself against the blow of the wall and the ground, but he still felt his head hit something heard.  The feeling of warmth running down from his forehead as he stumbled against the rubble to get up, confirmed it.

He glanced at the hole briefly, to see Slade calmly approaching the flames of the explosion.

Dick bolted down the street.

* * *

**_“Recognized: Robin B-01_ ** **”** The computer’s voice declared over the whirls of the Zeta tube.

Dick braced himself against the metal of the tube once the light fades.  

Fighting against the pain the was coursing through his body, pleading with him to just stop. Fighting to stay conscious and control for just a little bit longer.  Fighting against the fact that his knees feel like they were just going to give out underneath him without warning.  Fighting to get breath in his burning lungs as he also resisted the urge to throw up on the spot.  

Yeah, maybe taking the Zeta beam in his current state was not the best idea.

But it had been right there.

Slade and Shadows had been far enough behind him.  Dick had easily been able to slip into the safety of the hidden tube before Slade and the other Shadows arrived.

Not to mention he wasn’t going to let another opportunity to get back pass him up again.

Not when he was hurt and desperate.

Paranoia be damned. 

Carefully, he started to make his way out of the Zeta tube.  Bracing himself heavily against the cool metal with each step.  He gripped the wound in his shoulder, both in attempt to stop the blood that was still pouring out of it, and ease the pain of his weight.  He groaned to himself as his stomach suddenly lurched dangerously.

Dick fought against it.  Swallowing down the feeling of nausea as best he could.

He really wanted to keep what little had in stomach, in his stomach.

Dick managed to shuffle out of the mouth of the tube after more time then he would of like admit to.  He glanced around the main area of the cave.  Finding it completely empty of everyone.  Which didn’t tell him much as to the whereabouts of the team.

They could be on mission somewhere that didn’t require contact with someone back in the cave.  Or they were simply in the common area for team bonding over a movie or something.  Or they were just out and about living normal teenage lives.

Dick doesn’t think about it too long.  It wasn’t going to help him, and he needed to get to med bay.  Get to med bay and patch himself up before anyone found him.

_ Yeah, like that would stop them from freaking out _ , Dick thought sourly.

He started making his way towards the medical room in the base.  Biting down a hiss with every step he took towards it, and doing his best to ignore the feeling to blood blossoming from the wound in his leg with each step.  He swayed dangerously a few times, barely catching himself enough to stay up right.

He push passed the feeling of dizziness as he made it to the hallway that lead deeper into the cave.  Feeling the tingling in his skull and limbs start to fade away from him.  It pulled at him slightly each step further into the cave, deep and deeper towards the black nothingness he wanted so bad to give into.

He need to hold out just a little bit longer.

Make it med bay, and then he could pass out.

Someone would find, the no doubt, terrifying trail of blood he was leaving behind him.  And they would follow it, and find him and everything would be okay.  

Cause the Slade and the Shadows were not going to think to look for him in Mount Justice.  And why would they.  They capture him as Dick Grayson anyway.  No reason to suspect he would even wind up here.

Dick right leg suddenly gave up, causing him to collapse heavily to the ground.  He groaned as he jostled his shoulder and ribs in the fall.  The feeling of warmth against his stomach from his third wound was not a great feeling either.  

Carefully he turned to push himself back of up his feet. 

Only to find that wasn’t going to happen, as his shoulder protested against his weight painfully.  To the point that all of his strength left him instantly and he collapsed back on the floor.

Trying to crawl wasn’t much better.  A lot of effort for a tiny bit of moment

The tingling had faded into nothing now, and Dick feel himself starting to sink into the blackness.

He needed to hold on just a little bit longer.

He reached out for the wall at the fair end of the walkway.  Focusing his attention on it.  Tapping into the lingering feel of the tingle.  Slowly he started to move towards the wall.  Inches really. He willed himself to focus more, but everything was fading too quickly.

Just a little...bit...longer.

Darkness swept over Dick before he could reach out for one last attempt to move.

* * *

Dick was suddenly ripped out of the peaceful darkness he fallen into like someone shoved adrenaline into his chest. 

Like a lot of adrenaline into his chest.

He sucked in a huge gulp of air as his eyes snap up to whiteness.  

A blinding whiteness that he couldn’t make sense of.  It hurt his eyes, but it seemed to get lost in pain he was feeling all over.  His whole existence seemed to hurt, and Dick couldn’t figure out why.  He just kept staring at the light.

Trying to blink it into clarity as the witness faded to make room for more colors.

There are sounds too, but he can’t make sense of them.  Muffled and distant, maybe yelling, maybe talkin it was hard to tell over the pain.  But it sounds familiar.  

Kind of like the first time he woke up eight months ago....but not.

That’s...doesn’t help.

Something dark comes into view of the clearing light, and it pulls his view elsewhere.  No...that’s not right.  It moved his head to the side where there is more of black shape.

Then, there is a new bright whiteness in his eyes.  Flickering from one side to the other.  Not fun feeling or experience.  But he can’t move his head away.  It both hurts to much, and something is holding it in place.

Dick feels the tingle in the back of his skull. 

But as quick as it arrived, it vanished again.

And it took Dick with it.

* * *

Consciousness finds Dick again at some point.

Well sort of.

He sort of become aware of sounds around him.  A muted, constant sort of beep, and something that sounded like an occasional hiss.  All timed and mechanical.  And the feeling of a bed underneath him, and a scratchy sheet against his skin.

But he couldn’t open his eyes.  

That took effort and energy he didn’t have.

And he couldn’t feel his body either.  Dick remembered pain... _ everywhere _ and decided that is not a terrible thing to not feel.  But the lack of feeling everything  _ else _ doesn’t sit too well with Dick. 

There wasn’t even a whisper of the tingle in his limbs to supply him comfort. But it’s different...not suppressed...just buried in whatever was fogging his pain.

Dick could distantly make out sounds of someone talking.

It wobbled into clarity after a few moments as he focused on it.

“He zetaed from Star.” A voice informed swiftly.

“ _ Star? _ ”  A second voice sounded surprised.  “How did he get to Star City?”

“What was he  _ doing _ in Star City?”  A third voice asked with an angry edge.  It closer to where Dick was, like if he could move he could reach out and touch the owner.  “That’s the more important question.”

“Not sure.”  The first voice replied.  “Ollie’s looking into a few possibilities.  But the Zeta tube he used, was fifteen blocks away from a fire in an old Lex Corp warehouse.”

Dick fades into unawareness again.

* * *

A brush against his mind stirs Dick into something of awareness.

It caused Dick somewhat detangle himself from the darkness and cloudiness that surrounded him.  Groggily stumbling out enough into a landscape the was blurred and shifting.  Not really anything he noticed.

There was another mental brush.  

The feeling of surprise at him.

_ Rob--I mean, Dick? _ A familiar female voice asked.

Dick can feel a familiar presence in his mind.  But he can’t easily figure out what it is.  Still groggy and things are blurry and weird.  He knew he knew the presence though.  It wasn’t going to hurt him.  It was a friend.

It was…

_ It’s me, M’gann. _ The female voice said lightly.  Almost encouraging to remember, to reach the conclusion on his own.  That name sounded familiar.   _ You really are out of it, aren’t you? _

That was one way to put it.  He doesn’t really know what he is.  

_ You’re recovering in the Medical bay of the Cave.  You were really...hurt when we found you. _

Found him?  Found him where?  Oh right, the Cave.  He made it back to the Cave after…

There is a brief flash of Slade’s mask looming over him.  A passing fuzzed memory of growing pressure on his throat.

There is some surprise at the passing images before him from the presenses.  It attempted to grab at them slightly, pull them back into focus with a growing wave of concern that Dick felt would drown him.

The darkness behind him shifts, and there is a tingle crackle of blue that pull and wraps around him.  Comfort, but not at the same time.

Wait...M’gann was his friend that could...

No, get out!  Get out, get out, get out!  

_ Dick, I’m not going to--   _ The voice of the presences started, light, and gentle assurance ring through.  Even backing off slightly.

But the tingle blue is scared and angry.

Get out  _ now!   _

And stay out!

Dick pushed against the mental presence, that so easily let him with worry leaking everywhere as he did so.  He closed off his mind as much as he could.  And let the darkness suck him right back in again.

* * *

Another wave of consciousness hit him.

This time things come into clarity a bit faster.  

There was the feeling of the bed and scratchy sheets.  The beeps and hisses of the machines around him, from the last time he had consciousness.  He still can’t feel the pain he remembered having, but he could feel his limbs.  They felt…. _ heavy _ .

And this time, he could hear a...crunching beside him.

Like to the left of him.

Dick pulled his eyes open.  

Or tried to for a moment.  His eyelids fluttered and half opened to a blinding brightness before he gave up.  Still not enough energy for that.

But the crunching still persisted annoyingly.  

Half reminding him of the fact that he hasn’t eat much of anything in the past week...let alone month.  And half just driving him up a wall for some reason.

“Stop crunching.”  He demanded sharply.

Only it sounded gravelly and worn, and nothing like the words he tried to say.  Like his mouth and tongue half remembered how to work.

The crunching stopped instantly. 

And Dick was gone again.

* * *

When he came too again, there was something in his hand.  

Warm and there...and very hand like.  

And someone was reading something softly outloud.   It’s coherent and complete sentences, but Dick can’t really process what is being said.  Just that it’s not completely bad sounding.

He wiggles his fingers against the something in his hand.  Feeling an echo of a tingle raise down his limb with strength that makes him relax a little. 

The thing in his hand seemed to jump a little at the feeling.  And there was a slight gasp.  

The reading stopped.

Then Dick pulled open in his eyes.

And it was  _ painfully _ bright against them.  

He groaned as he closed them and sort of shifted, causing something else hurt.

“Dick?”  A gruff voice questioned suddenly as he tried opening his eyes again.  Same painful result...only not so bright as the first time.  “Dick?  How are you feeling?”

“Ow...and B’ght.” He somehow managed to grumble out.  Because putting a sentence suddenly took an effort he doesn’t have.  “Not...sentence.”  He observed with what felt like a frown.

“Can you open your eyes again?”  A female voice asked hopefully.  The thing in his hand was suddenly tightly around it.

“Hurt,” was all he managed before he was gone again.

* * *

Dick’s limbs felt heavy as he woke up again. 

He opened his eyes slowly.  Blinking away the light with more easy the last few times he’s tried opening his eyes.  He found himself staring at the ceiling for a good minute, before he tried to move.

Which didn’t really work out.  

A pain shot through his shoulder and side.  

He whimpered slightly at the feeling, and suddenly there was the sound of door’s banging up.

Dick turned to the sound quickly, crying out as something pulled and hurt and grew warm.  The tingling in his skull igniting quickly, but he’s in too much pain to use it against who ever was coming threw the door.  Instead, just gripping the railing of the bed he was on like a lifeline as he tried to breath out the pain.

There are voices talking.  Both to him and at each other, but it just becomes a clutter of noise in his ears.

Someone rolls him back onto his back.  He half struggles against them, before there's a strong yank, and someone pins down his arms.  His limbs tingle wildly.  He wants to let it out.  Let it push and shove the hands off him.

But he feel drug start to pull him under again, so he goes with them.

* * *

The next time Dick came to things felt easier.  

Calmer.

He didn’t have to struggle to open his eyes any.  They just sort of eased open.  And the light was bright, but it took far less time to adjust that the last few times.  He carefully observed the ceiling above him, finding it somewhat similar appearance.  And not in a way that had him panicking.

Slowly her tilted his head to bring his gaze down from the ceiling.  The wall is the usual hospital style blandness, only with what looked like a whole collection of hospital supplies against the wall.

And then there were his feet.  Or rather two small mounds in the scratchy looking blanket, that Dick knew were his feet.  And his legs from that.  He stopped when he gaze feel to his hands.

More so at the collection of tubes and wires connected up to them.  He shifted slightly for a better look.

“Stop,”  A gruff voice ordered firmly.

The acrobat stopped and turned to the sound.  Finding Batman sitting in a chair just to the right of the bed.  Stoic and neutral look as always.  But Dick knows Bruce’s face enough under the cowl to see the worry lines and the sense of relief that washed over him.  And the underlying anger that had form in his worry.

Batman rose from his seat and reached up over the railing of the hospital bed.  Dick did his best to not flinch away from the action. A task he was pretty sure he marginally failed at, because Bruce frowned at him under the crowl as he pressed the button to raise Dick’s bed into a something of a seated position.

“Thanks,” Dick said horsley.

He frowned at the horrible sound of his voice.  Worn and dry sounded, and it  _ ached _ like a sore throat, without  _ feeling _ like a sore throat.  He could only guess the number of days he didn’t use it, that went into the sound.  Let alone what affect Slade’s hands had done to it.

His eyes widened slightly at the memory.

Hands, building pressure, pain all over, and the burning as his lungs at the lack of air.

Dick slowly brought his hand throat.  Brushing his fingertips lightly against his throat.  Too light to cause any pain if there was still a bruise on his neck.  And that was not something Dick wanted to think about.

A cup with a straw suddenly appeared in front of Dick.

He reached up to take it with his other hand, before his hissed in pain.  His left shoulder painfully protested at the movement.  Dick in turn let his arm lay limped against the bed as he reached for it with his right hand.  Softly taking it from Batman’s gloved hand.

“Small sips.”  Dick heard Bruce grovel out sternly.

Dick rolled his eyes slightly at the words.  Giving Bruce a small pointed look as he took the straw into his mouth.  Dick was familiar with the routine enough to know what to do.  And as much as he wanted to down the cup of water as quickly as he could, he knew he couldn’t.  He’d either choke or throw it all up again.

Not something he wanted to do.

Bruce stood beside Dick’s bed watching him as he drank.  Not saying a word, or moving, just watching Dick closely.  Drinking in as much detail he could not that Dick was awake and functioning.  Probably looking for answers he couldn’t get when Dick was he was unconscious and unresponsive.

Dick ignored him as best he could.  Focusing on the feeling of relief as the water washed over his dry throat.  The cooling effect it had as he swallowed it down.

When he was done, he held the cup out.  Bruce took it out of his hands softly.  Placing it off to the side somewhere.  Dick didn’t really care to follow where he put it.  It wasn’t like Dick had much energy to move in the bed and reach for it if he wanted it.

“How long was I out?”  Dick asked cautiously, bring his hand up to his head.  

Fingertips brushed against a bandage before his raggedy hair.  He paused slightly, then remembered the explosion, and the hole he put through a brick wall.  And there had been something warm going down his face.

“Nearly four days.”  Bruce answered once Dick stopped feeling the bandage on his forehead.

“Yeah, that tracks.”  Dick muttered to himself.

He had passed out for a day or so when he lost control.  Longer in the beginning when they pushed and prodded at him.  Four days did not sound unreasonable for being severely wounded, and sore, and tired, and hungry.

“What happened?”  Batman asked firmly.

“I got in a fight.”  Dick answered easily, because it wasn’t a complete lie.  Bruce grunted at the words.  Unimpress and annoyed with the lack of straight answer.  “A  _ bad _ fight.”

“Dick.”  Bruce warned lowly.

The use of his given name stung.  Because Bruce still has the cowl up, which meant he was still Batman.  They’re at Mount Justice...or maybe the Watchtower, Dick can’t really tell for sure exactly  _ where _ he was, but the cowl was up for a reason.  The fact that Bruce doesn’t call him  _ Robin _ , or anything else for that matter, just drives the point home.

His not Robin anymore.  

His not  _ anything _ at the moment.

The tingle in his skull ignited angrly.

Dick turned away from Bruce sharply.  Quenching his fights tightly to keep the tingling at bay.  But he doesn’t give a damn what Bruce read it as.

“What were you doing in Star City?”  Bruce asked with a sigh, his voice slightly softer.

“I was trying to find Roy.” Dick snapped.

That wasn’t a lie either.  He had gone to Star with a conscious goal of trying to find Roy.  Use Roy as his ticket home.  Because while his older friend would be angry at Dick’s physical state, he would help with little questions.  He’d make Dick promise to give answers to him later.  When Dick was in a far better state.

But Dick had stumbled upon Roy and Cheshire, nozzling and being coupley.  

Dick high tailed it out of there at the sight.  

Unsure of Cheshire’s alliances.  And he wasn’t about to stumble through Roy’s window and find out she was going to take him back there.

“Didn’t find him.”  Dick continued.  “Then got in a bad fight.”

“With who?”

The image of Slade over him, pinning him to the ground and tightening his hold on Dick’s throat flashed in front of him.

“Bad people.”  Dick answered as his hand absently went to his neck as he swallowed down the panic.  “Really bad people.”

Batman sighed heavily beside Dick.  A weighted and frustrated sound, with an underlying angry Dick is familiar with.  But he can’t bring himself to care about too much at the moment.

“Dick,”  Bruce said levely, but Dick could hear the frustrated angry edge to his voice.  “You’ve been off the grid for eight months.  No contact whatsoever with  _ anyone _ .  Then show up in Metropolis panicked and jumpy, only to disappear on Clark and Conner five blocks from the Zeta tube.”  The more Bruce talked, the less his voice sounded level.  As his worry and frustration manifested into something more angry sounding.  “Then show up in the cave, barely even alive from blood loss.  Only to flatline while you were being patched up, and become semi comatose for four days.  So, I am going to need more than vague, simply worded answers.”

The acrobat managed to not flinch at the tone as he stared down at his quenched fists.  The tingling in his limbs flaring up with his own anger.  

Something that doesn’t surprise him.  It’s happened before, and there was was no doubt that it’s all somewhat linked to his emotional state.  He knows how to handle it  _ enough _ in panic and fear...but anger, not so much.

A memory of an old, sparking, crushed library computer monitor and a destroyed mouse in his hand reminded him of that.

Dick knew where the whole conversation will go.

Bruce wasn’t going to stop ask questions.  He would ask and push for answers.  Narrow down Dick’s room for simple vagueness, if he kept it up, until Dick had no choice but to answer the question.  And then shape the question three other different sounding ways to make sure Dick wasn’t lying.  It would start to feel like an interrogation before Bruce would notice, and he probably wouldn’t care once it started working.

Because Bruce needed answered.

He needed to know where Dick had been.  What he had been doing for the past  _ eight  _ months.  How he got all his new scars and wounds,and if they were what he had concluded on his own was right or not.  Why he had gone so quiet for so long.

All questions Dick wouldn’t answer.

_ Couldn’t _ answer.

At least not yet.  

Not until he understood more and had more control.

But Dick not answering, was going to let Bruce frustration and anger growing.  All because his worry was mixing and blurring it all together an ugly way Bruce couldn’t express well.  Meaning they would start arguing.  Arguing and yelling to the point where others would hear.  

Not that Batman and Robin arguing wasn’t an uncommon thing.

But Dick’s not  _ Robin _ any more.

He’s hurt, underweight, and on edge about  _ something _ that happened in his eight months absence.  It’s not going to mix well with his temper...or his anger towards Bruce.

_ Something _ would come out.

It was a simply matter of  _ what _ that could determine the outcome.

Dick started down at his arms on the bed.  

Trying to figure out how best to go about everything, before Bruce started talking again.  If he should even chance the mind field of questions awaiting him or grab the morphine drip and hold down the button till he goes loppy.

The second one sounds far more tempting the first as he starts at the ivy drip in his hand.  If he was quick and sneaky enough, Bruce wouldn’t notice till it was too late.  The only downside someone, likely Bruce, would take it away after.  Meaning it would be an escape that would work one.

A flash of a blurred lights and scenery decided to rear its ugly head at the moment. Along with the memory of pain surging through his body.  The tingling ignited in the same way, echoing the pain.  And there’s a scream somewhere in this distance.

Dick felt his breath catch thickly in his throat.

The pressure of hands on his throat is suddenly there.

His stomach churned dangerously as he reached up grab at the hold, but meet nothing but his own throat.  By some miracle, he managed to swallow down the nasusa enough.

There’s a ringing in his ears, piercing over the sound of his heartbeat and a distant sound of something talking to his right.  A short sounding word, said over and over.  

Something touches his arm, causing Dick to shrink away from the feeling.  It seems to leave the moment he moved from it.  The distant sound keeps persisting.  

His skull ached with the tingling, and it echoed in his limbs.  

It causes Dick to close his eyes to try and shove it all down.

It works...slightly.

The memory of cloth going over his mouth and the smell of chloroform clouding his senses takes over.  It brings a whole new wave of panic and tingling.

Dick shoved it down with the rest.

Focusing on old practiced exercises to calm down.  Relaxing slightly as they start to work.  And the tingling starts to fade back into nothing.

Slowly, everything eased back into normalcy once again.

He opened his eyes slowly.

Bruce was hovering just in the right corner of his vision.  Closer than before, but just out of range of a certain level of personal space.  A look on his face Dick hadn’t seen in  _ years _ .  Not since his first few years as Robin.  Worry, concern, and underlying bit of panic one would miss if they don’t know Bruce under the cowl.

Dick turned and started at him for a moment.

“Can we not talk about this yet?”  Dick asked weakly. 

A level of pleaing he hadn’t used against Bruce since he was at least ten.  

He didn’t want to fight.  

Not right now.  Not when he felt completely safe for the first time in a while.  

The young teen deflated against the pillow and the bed.  “I’m tired.”  He continued.

He wasn’t exactly tried.  

But the flashes of memories he was trying to bury away from everyone, really took the wind out of his sails.  Filling him with a sense of exhaustion, that made him just want to lay there until he fell asleep again.

“Yeah, alright, chum,”  Bruce said under the cowl.  

His voice and expression softening to a level Dick hadn’t seen since his first nights in the manor after becoming Robin.  Soft and gentle.  Familiar to only him.

And there’s a hand brushing through his hair.

“Thanks.” Dick muttered out with a small smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, Dick is finally back with his team.
> 
> I planned for there to be a short window between the first few fics. (I plan to write what happened to Dick in the mentioned 8 months down the line.) But I feel like I need to establish the story a little first before that.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed, I will likely see you all soon again!


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